Catch Me if You Can
by LovelyLonelyGirl
Summary: Sherlock's daughter plus John's son equals a feeling that cannot simply be deduced
1. Chapter 1

Catch Me If You Can

When Adelaide Holmes drops her books in the hallway, it is Eddie Watson who comes to her aid. It is an instant crush on both ends. There is no telling how this will end.

_Prologue:_

_ "Goodbye, John," Sherlock Holmes whispered into his cell phone, before tossing it next to Jim Moriarty's lifeless body. He spread his arms out wide and fell from the roof of St. Bart's Hospital. He was dead before he hit the ground._

_ Or was he?_

_ After three days of hushed whispers, changes of clothes, and picking of locks, Molly Hooper helped smuggle the very much alive Sherlock Holmes out of the morgue and onto a plane headed for America. The plan was to stay there until all the buzz about his "death" died down, but the consulting detective found the plot twisting when he ran into Irene Adler on the corner of 42nd Street and 5__th__ Avenue in New York City. He told her everything, and she took it all rather well. So well that she decided to return the favor. Within a month, Irene was able to pull a few strings and get them secret passage back into England without being noticed._

_ When they got back things had changed dramatically. They were not Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective and Irene Alder, part criminal, part dominatrix. They were Mr. and Mrs. Sherlock Holmes, full-time husband and wife. _

_Chapter One_

If there was one thing that everyone in Kensington Day School could agree on, it was that Adelaide Holmes was beautiful.

Adelaide Holmes was sixteen and attractive in a way that if anyone told her so, she would have laughed in their face, and asked them to tell her something that she didn't already know. She had her father's long, dark curls, which cascaded all the way down to the middle of her back, and icy blue eyes, veiled by a pair of Club Master glasses. Her skin was always blemish-free, her cheeks always slightly rosy. The only makeup she ever wore was a red lipstick, one of many. Her mother had always told her, "A good red lipstick, a wink, and a grin are any woman's keys to success."

She always carried herself with a sense of confidence. She walked lightly on the floors of her school, her hair billowing out from behind her, eyes focused forward. She always got where she needed to go without a word to or from anyone. If anyone ever said anything to her, her response was always the same. She would turn, shrug, give them a quick wink, and continue on her way. Adelaide Holmes was the perfect combination of mystery, modesty, and class.

It was rare that Adelaide was in a hurry. Today was one of those hurried days. She had promised to meet her father at a café in Belgravia at three-thirty sharp, and her father didn't wait for anyone. She was running through the hallway, simultaneously shrugging her messenger bag over her shoulder and tying her black scarf around her neck. In her arms were several textbooks: psychology, sociology, and anatomy. She turned the corner and was halfway to the door when she walked headfirst into the boy coming around the corner. She dropped the textbooks on her foot and the bag on his.

"Oh, my goodness, I am so terribly sorry-" she rambled on, haphazardly grabbing her bag and her anatomy textbook when she noticed the boy's outstretched hands holding her two other books. She took them.

"Thanks so much. I'm so sorry, this is so unlike me. I'm just in a huge rush and-" she took a breath and looked up. The boy was smiling.

"Be more careful next time. You never know who's coming in these halls," he said with a chuckle. There was nothing too special about this boy, but to Adelaide, he was the handsomest boy she had ever laid eyes on: average height, straight blond hair, gray eyes, broad shoulders, and very muscular. His smile faded when he looked in her eyes. His gaze made Adelaide's heart flutter.

"I know you. You're that girl everyone talks about. Adelaide, right?" he asked. She nodded, slightly taken aback.

"Yeah, that's me. I've never seen you around here before," she said casually. This was how she always played it with boys: start with something simple and build on it. This usually ended in the boy slipping his telephone number into her bag, which she usually threw away, as per her father's advice. "You don't need boys," he would say. "You're far too smart for any of them." She never knew whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.

"Yeah, my family and I just moved back to London. My dad has been doing a lot of medical work down in Africa and South America, and we've just moved back," he shrugged, clearly not too pleased about the move. Adelaide nodded.

"Well, welcome to Kensington Day. I'm afraid I must be going, I have an important appointment with my father, and he's a rather impatient man," she said, taking her books from the boy's arms. "Goodbye," she said before running off towards the door, leaving the boy alone.

Before she could forget, she turned around, curls flipping over her shoulder. "I don't believe I caught your name, new boy," she called. He turned around to face her.

"Eddie. Eddie Watson" he called back before giving a brief salute and taking off down the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

Adelaide strolled into the café at three twenty-five. She spotted her father, who was sitting in the back corner, eyes fixed on the waitress across the room.

Even after sixteen years and two children, Sherlock Holmes still had it. Same unruly black hair, same piercing blue-gray eyes and prominent cheekbones. He still played the violin when he was thinking and shot at walls when he was bored. Adelaide sometimes thought of him as an angsty, rebellious teenager stuck inside a forty-five year old body.

"Good afternoon, Dad," she said briskly, tossing her bag beneath table and hanging her coat on the back of her chair. His gaze was stilled fixed on the waitress who was now coming closer to their table. When she reached the table, Adelaide ordered two coffees for them, black with two sugars. When she walked away, Adelaide turned to her dad.

"So, why did you summon me here this afternoon, Dad?" she asked dryly. She hated it when her father concentrated too much. It meant that he was about to go into full consulting detective mode, rattling off all that he could about any one person in the room. He looked at her and gasped.

"Ah, yes. Our waitress."

"What about her?"

"Tell me everything you can about her," he said. Adelaide blinked slowly. _I hate when he does this_, she thought. By _this_, she meant taking her to a public place and making her practice deduction on strangers. She was getting better at it, though. She craned her neck, trying to seek her out.

"She's in her early twenties. Twenty-four. Maybe twenty-five-"

"Which is it, Adelaide?" her father asked impatiently. Adelaide huffed.

"Twenty-five. She's got a touch of purple under her eyes and she's leaning back on her right foot, all of her weight on it. She's tired; she's been here all day. She gets off around five. This is her first job. She's been here for about two months, because while she's got the majority of the tables in here, she's still messed up two of the orders. You wouldn't see that from a seasoned worker, but anyone here for less than two months would have messed up every table. Hell, they wouldn't even be waiting tables. Her pants and shirt are new. There are still creases on the pants, that's because she bought them yesterday and wants to break them in. No time for ironing. She's going to see someone after her shift, but not someone she sees all the time. If that were the case, she would have worn her old clothes. She's going to see a man. Not her fiancé, though-"

"How do you know she's got a fiancé?" he asked again. She hated it when he challenged her knowledge.

"There's a greenish mark around her left ring finger, from a ring that's too tight. It's getting better, so clearly she's been wearing it less and less. She wears it out and takes it off when she gets here. Nobody in here knows that she's engaged, then again, why would she want them to, considering she's cheating on her fiancé? Yes, she's cheating on her fiancé, because she wouldn't wear new clothes and no engagement ring to see a female friend or a family member, no. It's a man she's seeing, and it's not the man she's marrying."

Sherlock Holmes didn't even blink. He just stared at his daughter. She leaned back. "Well? How did I do?" she asked. This was always the worst part. Her father would give one of two answers: a simple shrug or an entirely different deduction, pointing out what he saw as "the most obvious points." He picked up his coffee.

"Impressive," he said simply. Adelaide's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked excitedly.

"Yes, a little too impressive I might add. Job well done, Adelaide," he said, raising his coffee mug to her and shooting her a playful wink.

Adelaide was close with her family. She was a mentor to her twelve-year old brother Charlie, and she and her parents got on rather well. The four of them lived in a small, yet upscale apartment in Belgravia. Out in public or behind closed doors, the Holmes family was nearly perfect.

While she didn't approve of her mother's former profession, she was always there for everything, from helping Adelaide memorize a speech to helping with boy troubles. In many ways, Irene Holmes was the perfect mother.

It was her father, Sherlock Holmes, whom she was especially close with. He had started to educate her in the science of deduction from a young age, and he seemed especially pleased that she was picking up on it. He had very few restrictions on her: whenever she came home from school, huffing and puffing about something, he would give her his handgun, trace a target on the wall, then round up the rest of the family and let Adelaide shoot out her issues. They were pair who were always making their own little jokes and kicking one another under the kitchen table. In short, Adelaide felt like she could trust her parents with anything.

When she and her father came home, her mother was waiting for them.

"Well? Did you impress him?" she asked slyly. Sherlock nodded.

"Probably the best deduction she's ever done," he responded. Irene smiled. "That's my girl," she said, shooting Adelaide a wink.

"Well, I'm afraid I must be off again. I'm meeting Lestrade, catching up, maybe he'll have something interesting for me," he said. He kissed his wife and daughter, then flipped up his coat collar and dashed out the door.

Adelaide shook her head. "Was he always like this?" she asked her mother. Irene shook her head, laughing. "He's not so bad. At least you aren't married to him," she said. Adelaide laughed. She sighed and sat down, leaning her cheek on her hand. Her mother came over to her and sat down, crossing her legs.

"Alright, dear. Something is troubling you," she said. Adelaide picked up her head. Before she could say a word, her mother started up again.

"You look tired. Your pupils are contracting. You **are** tired. You're thinking about something, but you don't know how to go about talking about it. It's not school, you've aced all your exams, and it's not us. So, it's a boy, isn't it?"

Adelaide laughed. Her mother was a master of deduction, like her father. She was, actually, better. "How did you know?" she said sarcastically.

Irene smirked. "Don't give me cheek. I always know. Who is he? Do you know anything about him?"

Adelaide smiled softly, and her thoughts were full of him. "He's new at school. He told me so. His father must be a doctor because he said that he was doing lots of medical work down in South America and Africa. His accent was British, so he must've lived here before. He's handsome. Blond hair, blue-gray eyes. He doesn't stand out much, but he stands out to me."

Irene nodded. "I knew it. You met him this afternoon, didn't you? That's why you were a few minutes late to meet your father. You were-"

"I was talking to him," Adelaide finished.

"Of course you were. Check your bag, dear," she said. Adelaide reached into her messenger bag. Inside was a small slip of paper.

"Ah, his mobile phone number, of course. He wants to hear from you. He wants to see you. Have no fear, Addie. He's already enchanted," she said, standing up and walking away. "Just don't let your father see that," she whispered in her ear. Adelaide's lips curled into a smile. "I won't, mum," she called. From the other room, she heard her mother's voice.

"Oh, you forgot that most important detail."

"Oh? And what was that?"

"His name."

Adelaide sighed. "Eddie. _Eddie Watson_."

Irene burst out of the bedroom. "Watson?" Adelaide nodded and with that, Irene shut the door.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Meanwhile, in Hammersmith, Eddie Watson was listening to Two Door Cinema Club and dreaming about the girl that he had just met a few hours ago.

_Adelaide_. What an old-fashioned name. What a beautiful name. He had heard many things about her on his first day at school. He had asked one of the guys that he had just met, Drew, if he knew who to stay away from. Eddie always asked this question. He had faced bullying in both South America and Africa, and he just wanted someone to tell him whom to avoid so that it wouldn't happen again.

"No one, really. We all get on rather well here. Except for one girl. She's-"

"She's what?" Eddie asked. Drew shrugged.

"No one really knows anything about her. She never really says anything to anyone. She's just sort of… I don't know! I mean, she's hot, but she doesn't seem to have time for anyone, not even friends."

Eddie was intrigued. "Who is she?" he asked casually. Drew looked at him.

"Adelaide Holmes. Long black hair, glasses. Trust me, you'll know who she is when you see her."

Eddie was smart, and he was going to do what any new student with half a brain would do: he was going to look for this Adelaide Holmes.

He was just trying to find his way back into school so he could get his locker in order when he ran slap-bang into a girl carrying three textbooks and a leather bag. When she looked up, and he got a good look at her face, he realized: it was she.

She was even more beautiful than Drew had described her. Long, curly black hair, a perfect, peaches-and-cream complexion, and blue eyes that he could stare into forever. But, after he saw her, he realized that he would never have a chance with someone so mysterious and so beautiful.

He heard a knock at his door. "Eddie? May I come in?" he heard his father ask. Eddie switched off his music. "Yeah, sure, come on in."

His door opened and in walked his father, Dr. John Watson. After sixteen years, he still looked the same. Same blond-gray hair, it blue eyes. But, those eyes had sadness to them. Of course they did. He was still missing his best friend, Sherlock Holmes.

"I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you all day. How've you been? How was your day?" he asked. Eddie wasn't as close with his dad as he would like to be, but his dad was trying.

"It was uneventful. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary," he responded vaguely. John smiled.

"Alright," he said before heading towards the door. "Dad, wait-" Eddie said quickly, a move he instantly regretted. Now he had to tell.

John turned around. "What is it, Ed?" he asked. Eddie stared blankly for a moment. "Nothing," he muttered.

"Doesn't seem like nothing. What is it? Talk to me, son. Is it your friends?"

"No."

"Teachers?"

"No."

"Girls?"

Eddie gulped. "No."

Clearly, John knew his son too well. "Edward John Hamish Watson. Look me in the eyes and tell me, honestly, that it's not a girl."

Eddie looked at his father. "It's not a girl."

"You're a bloody awful liar, son," John said bluntly. Almost instantly, Eddie's sister, Violet burst in.

"It's a girl!"

"Vi!" Eddie yelled. John burst into peels of laughter.

"Alright, who is she?" he asked simply. Eddie took a deep breath.

"Adelaide," he said. The name was like music to his ears.

"Like the Australian city?" John asked. Eddie laughed aloud.

"No. Adelaide. Adelaide Holmes."

John froze, his face white as a sheet. It couldn't be. He gulped and nodded.

"Well, is she nice?" he asked vaguely. Eddie nodded.

"She's mysterious, but she seems like a wonderful person. I really want to get to know her," he said. He meant it.

"So, she's not like her father," John muttered.

"Sorry?"

"What? Nothing," John muttered, putting his hand on his son's shoulder. "Well, she'd be a fool not to like you," John said to his son. Then, he stood up and walked out without a word. As his father shut the door, Eddie put his headphones back and drifted off into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"It can't be. It isn't. There is no way."

"Clearly, there is."

"There could be plenty of people in London with the last name Watson with some of the same physical features. For our daughter's sake, please don't form such assumptions. She doesn't even know who John is. Why should she now?"

"You and I both know the answer to that, but she's your daughter and you always tell her that she doesn't need boys, so you're refusing to acknowledge it. So what else is new?" Irene exclaimed. Sherlock threw up his hands.

"I've tried for sixteen years, sixteen years Irene, to forget what happened that morning. But it's not easy, not even for me. I claim that I don't care, that I can't get attached, and I don't, I try not to, but John… John was different. I remember I heard him say 'I was so alone and I owe you so much.' How do you forget someone who says that? While he could be incredibly simpleminded and was always blurting out 'Amazing!' or 'That was remarkable,' he was a friend. The only friend I ever had. Nevertheless, I am fine, she will be fine, and let us leave it there. Goodnight, Irene," Sherlock quipped before turning over and throwing the blankets over himself. Irene shook her head.

"She's your daughter, Sherlock," she muttered before turning off the lights.

"You know what my brother once said: caring is not an advantage. This time, he's right," Sherlock muttered.

* * *

Adelaide was taking her psychology textbook out of her locker, Bach playing softly in her ears, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned quickly on her heel and had to catch herself when she saw who it was.

"Um, hi. It's Adelaide, isn't it?" Eddie Watson asked, his hands jammed in his pockets, his eyes focused on hers. Her heart was pounding, but she didn't show her anxiousness. Like her father, she never showed emotion in social situations.

"That's right. What brings you around here?" she asked. It was meant to sound casual and normal, but it came out as unfriendly and evasive. Eddie blushed and bowed his head.

"Um, well I was wondering if you wanted to, um… if you weren't busy, if you wanted to-"

"Go out?" she finished, raising an eyebrow. Eddie's eyes widened.

"Um, yeah," he replied, shrugging. He inhaled sharply. "Sorry, but how did you know that I was, um, asking you out?" he asked quietly. Adelaide's eyes widened, her lips curled into a smile. Time to show off a little.

"Your speech was a bit of a giveaway. 'Um' came out of your mouth twice, both before you were going to get to the real question. You've never really talked to or spent time with girls. If you had, you would probably have a standard way of asking them out that 'works every time'. Most boys do. In fact, I would venture to guess that I'm the first, am I not?"

Eddie's jaw dropped. "Um-"

"You're doing it again."

"Yeah, yes, you are. Yes, you are the first girl I've ever, you know-"

"I'd love to," she said simply. Eddie's eyes widened.

"Are you serious?" he asked. He couldn't believe his luck! Adelaide gave him a strange look.

"Would I joke about something like that? I'll tell you what: meet me in Belgravia. Café called B&W, I think? Four o'clock. Don't be late." She hoisted her leather bag up on her shoulder, turned on her heel and walked away, trench coat billowing out from behind her. Eddie gave a low whistle, then shook his, snapping himself out of his daydream. _B&W, Belgravia, four o'clock. Don't be late._

It was 3:55 when Eddie set foot in B&W, a spacious, upscale café and bakery. He took a look around. Everyone looked and acted so wealthy. He was obviously out of place. He scanned the room for Adelaide. He kept walking through the café when he saw her, sitting at the table farthest away from everything and everyone else. Her coat was draped on the back of her chair, bag thrown under the table. Her chin was resting on her folded hands and she was appeared to be staring off into space. Eddie walked up to the table and stood before her.

"Um, hey, Adelaide," he said. She did not respond. She continued to stare. He waved his hand in front of her face tentatively.

"Adelaide? Hello?" he asked, this time a little louder. She looked at him, looked away, then looked back and gasped a little.

"Right, sorry, just thinking. Sit down," she said, though it came out as more of a command. Eddie sat down. Adelaide continued to stare, but this time, she stared at him. Eddie, made slightly uncomfortable by this, averted his eyes.

"No. Keep your head up. I want to look at you," Adelaide commanded. Eddie's head snapped back up.

"Um, sorry, but why?" he asked tentatively. Adelaide smirked.

"There are several little beads of sweat on your forehead; you are still nervous. You didn't get lost; you seemed to know where this place was when I told you to meet me here. So tell me, why are you anxious?"

Eddie didn't even blink. He opened his mouth, but Adelaide continued.

"Ah. Of course. You were nervous to see me, weren't you?"

Eddie's mouth dropped, then shut quickly. He cleared his throat, his eyes downcast. "Yes," he muttered. Adelaide cocked an eyebrow.

"It's because you like me, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Eddie said bluntly. Adelaide's eyes widened. She sat back for a minute, and then leaned forward again. Eddie continued to talk.

"It is because I like you. I don't care what my friends say, or how cold and mysterious and cool you are. I really do like you, and if you like me, great. If you don't, please don't laugh in my face like you've supposedly done to all the others," he said before bowing his head low, his voice going several octaves lower on the last few words. Adelaide leaned across the table.

"What if I were to tell you that I liked you too? What would you do then?" she whispered. Once again, Eddie's eyes widened.

"Y-Y-You do? You're not, like, joking, are you?"

"No…."

"Wow, um, okay, well, I'm-"

"Yes, you're glad to hear it, I know. Do you want to get out of here?" Adelaide asked.

"Um, we just got here?"

"I know, but this meeting was pretty much for us to get all of this-" she said, gesturing to the space between them, "out in the open. No, I actually need to leave rather quickly. If I'm not home by five, my uncle comes looking for me. Pity, though. I'd much rather stay out with you."

Eddie stood up. "Well, would you like to-"

"Let's go," Adelaide said simply, picking up her bag and buttoning up her coat.

When they got outside the café, Eddie turned to face Adelaide.

"Well, it's been good to see you and, you know, talk," he said. His voice trailing off.

"You're doing it again," Adelaide said mockingly. Eddie shook his head, laughing.

"I'll see you soon, Eddie," Adelaide said, winking and turning down the street. Now was Eddie's chance.

"Wait! I have to ask you something. How did you know all that stuff? You know, about me being nervous and all?" Adelaide smiled.

"Deduction. Merely inferences from observation. My father and mother are quite good at it, so naturally I've picked up on it," she said with a shrug, turning away again.

"You parents?"

"Yes, my parents. Regardless of how old they are, even now, no one could ever beat Sherlock and Irene Holmes."

Eddie nodded. "Right. Bye Adelaide," he said, giving a casual wave before turning down the street into the afternoon sun.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

While she didn't show it, Adelaide was overjoyed.

She had never felt this way about anybody else, and while it was an unfamiliar feeling, it was a good feeling, a feeling that she wanted to last forever. In the midst of her thoughts, her mobile phone buzzed:

_ Are you home yet? –MH_

Sighing, Adelaide tapped out a quick text message. Her uncle Mycroft was always checking up on her like that.

_Walking through the door now. –AH_

Adelaide shut the door quietly and tossed her bag on the coffee table, which she then proceeded to step over, only to collapse on the sofa. She closed her eyes, her lips forming a satisfied smile.

"What are you grinning about?" her father asked, strolling into the room, stepping over the coffee table and walking to the window. Adelaide faced him.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing that you would understand," she said in a dreamy voice. Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? Since you claim that it is beyond my understanding, then I feel I have a right to know," he said slyly. Adelaide closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I don't know. If I told you, you really wouldn't understand."

"Does this have to do with, shall we say, members of the opposite sex?" he inquired.

"Yes, it does. One member, actually."

"Oh? And who might he be?"

"Eddie. Eddie Watson. He's new at school and is seemingly in love with me," she said simply. At 'Eddie Watson,' he father's face went slack.

"Watson?" Adelaide nodded. Sherlock shook his head. "It's not possible."

"What's not possible?"

"Nothing," Sherlock said. He took a second glance at his daughter, then left the room. Adelaide kept her eyes on her father as he left the room. She rolled her eyes. _Funny_, she thought. _Why did the both of them freak when they heard his name was Watson?_

* * *

"Hey, Adelaide," she heard him say from behind her, trying to slide his hand into hers. She slapped it away and turned around quickly. He looked a little hurt.

"Sorry about that. I'm just not a huge PDA fan," she remarked. Eddie put up his hands in surrender. She slammed her locker and started to walk, Eddie at her side.

"So, I was thinking that maybe you might want to meet my parents? They've been dying to meet you, especially my father. He's quite funny about it; I've never had a proper girlfriend before, so he's a little-" Adelaide cut him off.

"Yes, that would actually work nicely. My father has actually been quite interested in meeting you. How about I come around on Friday, after school? I'll probably be around at six or so. I'm meeting my father and his friend after school and I've got to sit through more reminiscing on the good old days of New Scotland Yard and deduction," she said quickly. Eddie blinked, his brain caught up with her words.

"Right then. Friday at six… well, I guess I'll see you later?" he asked.

"I suppose you will," Adelaide said with a wink before wiggling her fingers at him and taking off down the hallway.

Halfway down the hallway, she ran into another boy.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I did not mean to do that-"

"No, you're quite alright," she said briskly, meeting the boy's gaze. There was something strangely familiar about him, a little too familiar. He had red hair in a tall quiff and hazel eyes. He was dressed rather well for a teenage boy; navy blazer, skinny khakis. On his shoulder was a tan messenger bag.

"I didn't mean to do that. Are you alright?" he asked her, his eyes glistening. She smiled back at him. He was so cute, how could she not?

"Yeah, I'm fine. You lost or something?" she asked innocently.

"Yeah, today's my second day, but I'm still trying to figure this school out," he said, his voice trailing off. He stuck out his hand.

"I'm Jack. Jack Riley."

"Pleased to meet you, Jack Riley. I'm Adelaide Holmes," she replied coolly, shaking his outstretched hand. He smiled pleasantly.

"Well, Adelaide, I'm glad I ran into you because I need to know where the psychology classroom is."

"Well, that depends. Room number?"

"Er, Upper East Wing, room 22," he read carefully. Adelaide smiled.

"You can take this staircase and it's the third classroom on the left, but you're in luck; that's my classroom. We can walk there together, if you like," she said casually. His eyes lit up.

"Yeah, I'd like that," he said, his voice going up and down, obviously relieved and somewhat excited.

As they walked up the stairs, he told her all about himself; he had lived in London all his life, but he had just moved from a different school. "I'd been having some issues. You know, bullies and what not," he said with a shrug so casual that she felt sorry for him. His mom had a job at a local radio station and he had a cat named Mimi. He was so normal and easygoing, not like Eddie who just seemed nervous all the time.

But, she wasn't going to let this new boy distract her from Eddie. She knew how jealous boys got. When they reached the classroom, the teacher didn't even notice that anyone was missing. In fact, when the door opened he was asking a question, and he had called on Adelaide to answer it.

"Sorry? Oh, Hippocrates. He felt that mental disorders were of a more physical nature, rather than a divine nature. He was probably right, though. People are probably born crazy and the insanity just keeps going up until it goes positively through the roof and the insane one ends up a terrorist or a murderer, which are more or less the same thing," she said quickly.

The teacher turned around and, lo and behold, Adelaide was sitting in her chair, notebook and textbook open, chin resting in her palm as if she hadn't been gone for the first half of class. She smiled mischievously. Next to her, Jack's eyes were wide open, his mouth a little open as well. She looked at him blankly.

"What? It's impolite to stare," she whispered to him. He closed his mouth and faced forward. When he looked back at her, she was in the same position as she was before. Her eyes shifted slowly and winked.

* * *

"So, tell me about yourself, Adelaide," Jack said casually on the way out of school. Adelaide smiled.

"Well, I live in Belgravia with my father, my mother, and my brother. My mother doesn't really work, and my father-" she stopped herself. She had already told Eddie about her dad, and she probably shouldn't have. She wasn't going to make another stupid mistake over a boy. "my father does some work for the law enforcement. My brother Charlie is twelve. We're, I guess you could say pretty close. Not like other siblings who have nothing better to do but squabble over trivial things," she said with a slight shrug. Jack nodded.

"That's nice that you have such a close family. My mum and I are really close, sort of like you and your father. I wish I was as close with my dad," he said wistfully. Adelaide turned to him. "Then why aren't you?" she asked.

"I feel like I hardly know him. Mum talks about him occasionally; how charismatic and talented he was when they met. Now he's just sort of-" he shrugged sadly. "I don't know. I don't think I'll ever figure him out."

Adelaide was about to nod when she felt someone come up behind her.

"Hi, Adelaide," Eddie said quietly. Adelaide turned slightly, her eyes lighting up briefly.

"Hello, Eddie, how are you?" she asked, trying to contain her enthusiasm. When Jack wasn't looking, she slipped her arm through his. Eddie glanced at her, then at her arm hooked through his. She winked. Jack looked back and saw them. He glared at Eddie.

"Adelaide, aren't you going to introduce me?" he asked, his voice clipped. She smiled, her cheeks growing rosier than normal.

"Eddie, this is Jack Riley. Jack, this is Eddie, my-"

"We're seeing each other," Eddie said quietly. Adelaide raised an eyebrow at him,

"He's my _boyfriend_," Adelaide said proudly. Jack nodded, as if irritated.

"Well, nice to meet you. See you later, Adelaide," Jack said. He nodded curtly at Eddie and jogged off. Eddie turned to Adelaide.

"I thought you weren't a huge PDA fan," he said accusingly. Adelaide looked at him blankly.

"Jack was getting annoying. I figured the arm hook would ward him off a bit," she said bluntly. Eddie looked taken aback.

"Right, " he mumbled. "We still on for Friday?"

"Of course," she whispered coyly. They continued to walk, but neither of them noticed that their arms were still entwined…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Mum, Eddie's invited us over to his house on Friday. Six o'clock."

"This is Eddie Watson you're talking about?" Irene asked. Adelaide nodded. In a flash, Sherlock whipped around the corner.

"We're going where on Friday?" he asked.

"Eddie Watson's home in Hammersmith. He wants me to meet his parents," Adelaide explained. Sherlock's eyes lit up. "Perfect," he muttered.

"Sorry, dad?"

"Oh, er, yes and I take it your mother and I are invited?"

"Yes…"

"Perfect. Brilliant. Can't wait," Sherlock said shortly, before darting out of the room. Irene looked at him and followed him. She found Sherlock in their room, pacing on the carpet, running his hands through his hair.

"I would have thought any reunion would have been between us, not when both of our families are there for it all!" he whispered exasperatedly. Irene glared at him.

"Well, you're just going to have to deal with it. For our daughter," she said, raising her eyebrows. Sherlock glared back at her, and fell back on their bed.

"Sherlock… Sherlock, please don't act like a child about this."

No response. Irene inched closer to him and put her lips close to his ear.

"Sherlock, don't make me get my riding crop."

Sherlock turned to her and reluctantly sat up. "Friday. Six o'clock," he grumbled.

When Friday night finally rolled around, Sherlock was all nerves.

"Are you alright? You look like you're going to be sick," Irene commented. Sherlock glared at her.

"Yes. Fine," he said shortly. Irene rolled her eyes. A few minutes later, Adelaide walked in.

"Mum, I need to borrow your black heels," she said while closing the clasp on the back of her tight, sleeveless, black dress. When Sherlock saw her, he nearly choked.

"No, you don't," he answered. Adelaide looked at him. "Sorry, dad?"

"You won't be needing your mother's heels. Eddie's father is not that tall, so his son probably isn't that tall either. You'll tower over him if you wear them."

Adelaide eyed her father warily. "What are you talking about?"

Sherlock's eyes widened, realizing what he had said. "Nothing, nothing at all. Just ignore me," he muttered quickly. Adelaide rolled her eyes and strutted over to the closet. She walked out holding the shoes. "We're going to be late," she reminded them.

When she had left, Irene threw down her lipstick, crossed the room to Sherlock and slapped his cheek. "You realize you've made it worse? Now she knows something!"

"No, she does not."

"Oh, I remember you once said that once an idea or a thought had made a home in your mind, it never left. She definitely knows something."

Sherlock looked up at his wife, his cheek still pink and stinging. "I hate it when you hit me," he grumbled. Irene leaned closer into him.

"No, you don't," she whispered, slapping his other cheek, which prompted Sherlock to lunge forward for a kiss. Irene stopped him.

"No, no. Can't have you messing up my makeup," she purred before walking out of the room and turning off the lights.

* * *

"Okay, mum, dad, please act normal. I really want Eddie to like you and for you to like him, so please no showing off, talking about-" she said eyeing her mother, who eyed her back. "Just be normal. Okay?"

Adelaide strutted forward and knocked on the door, tossing her hair back. She heard thumping footsteps. The door swung open. It was Eddie, dressed in a blue button-down shirt and nice(er) jeans. He smiled widely when the door opened.

"Hi Adelaide, " he said quietly. "You look lovely."

"Oh, thank you Eddie, you look very handsome this evening. Eddie, I want you to meet my parents. Mum, Dad, this is Eddie," she said proudly, once again linking her arm through his.

Irene and Sherlock both shook Eddie's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Eddie," Sherlock said. Eddie gestured for them to come inside. Their apartment was nice: lots of family pictures and simple furniture. You could tell that a normal family lived here.

"I want you to meet my mother, Mary. Mum, this is Adelaide and Mr. and Mrs. Holmes," he said proudly. Mary was lovely; petite, blue eyes, long blond hair swept up in a twist. _John had done well for himself_, Sherlock thought.

"Mary, dear, are they here yet?" a loud voice said from the other room.

"Yes, John, they just got here!"

In a moment, a man who was the spitting image of Eddie strolled out into the kitchen. Sherlock's eyes widened. This was it.

"Dad, I want you to meet Adelaide and her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes." John looked up and faced Sherlock. His eyes widened. "Oh, my God-" he stammered. Sherlock smiled. "Hello, John."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"W-what?" was all John could say. Here he was, standing her with his wife and children, when the part of his life that he thought was gone forever was suddenly resurrected.

"Funny," Sherlock mused. "I never thought that this reunion would be like this. I imagined you going into a cursing fit and passing out, and Mrs. Hudson would have to revive you." John did not find it funny. He sat down.

"How?" was all he asked. The room was silent. Adelaide locked her hand with Eddie's, obviously anxious. Eddie looked at her.

"Do we have to discuss this now? I mean, tonight was supposed to be for me and Adelaide, and-"

"Yes, John, Eddie is right. Do we have to discuss this now-"

"No. I want an answer. The last time I saw you, you were splattered on the sidewalk beneath St. Bart's, and now you're alive and well, with a wife and a daughter, dating my son. How did this happen?" John asked quietly. Sherlock exhaled quickly. There was no way out.

"Homeless network. The people who loaded me-or rather the dummy of me- into that ambulance, took me around the back of Bart's and shoved me back in. There I stayed for three days until Molly got me secret passage to America, which ended up not so secret, considering how it turned out," he said, smiling at Irene.

"And here we are," Adelaide shrugged, squeezing Eddie's hand. John nodded.

"Yes… here we are, I suppose," he muttered. He rose from the couch and extended his hand. Sherlock shook it firmly. They looked at each other. John smiled, and the handshake turned into a tearful hug (the tears being on John's end.)

* * *

After a long dinner and dessert, the young lovers grew restless. Eddie leaned across the sofa and whispered to Adelaide.

'What d'you we get out of here?" Adelaide turned.

"I suppose we could."

Eddie told his parents that he and Adelaide were gong for a walk, grabbed both of their coats and left.

The city of London was all lit up for the evening, as it always was. Eddie rounded yet another corner where they came to a rusted ladder leaned against a tall brick building.

"Shall we?" he asked, extending his hand. Adelaide eyed him warily, but took his hand and up they went. When they reached the top, the view was incredible.

_London_. Every single building, every single individual window and light, able to be seen for miles. They sat down on the building's flat roof. It was silent. Adelaide fished around in her coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She offered one to Eddie.

"Dad can't seem to kick the habit, so I steal 'em from him," she explained.

"And instead you use them?" Eddie asked. Adelaide raised an eyebrow.

"You're only young once," she whispered sweetly. She shook one out of the pack. Eddie took it reluctantly. She smirked, leaned over and lit it for him, doing the same for herself, inhaling quickly. They sat there in silence, smoking for a few more minutes when Adelaide spoke.

"So when and how did you come across this place?" she asked. Eddie exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"A friend took me up here ages ago. I come here when I'm in deep thought or when I've had a bad day. I just watch the world go by, and it all seems better from up here."

Adelaide nodded. "If only that were true." Once again, it was silent. Just the two of them, sitting on this old roof, smoking cigarettes and talking about life. It was all so perfect, and so abnormal at the same time. Apparently, Eddie could no longer stand the silence.

"Adelaide-"

"Shh."

"What is it?"

"I'm listening."

"To what?"

"The city. I never appreciate the city sounds. I love hearing car horns and buses come around corners and people yelling. It's home, I guess," she mused, exhaling as she spoke. Eddie could only stare. Adelaide looked back at him.

"What? It's rude to stare you know," she said, but couldn't say anything more, because Eddie had leaned forward and flat-out kissed her.

It was interesting, this kiss. It was nothing like she had expected. Eddie's lips were cold from the wind, but when they met hers, they warmed up instantly. The warm breath coming from his nose warmed her whole face, but sent a shiver down her spine. She broke away quickly. The smoke danced all around them. Once again, Eddie could only stare. She stared back. They smiled at each other and burst out laughing.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Why are you laughing?"

"It wasn't funny!"

"I understand that!"

"So why are you laughing?"

"I don't know?!"

"Shall we give it another go?"

"Yes, let's," Adelaide said between laughs before Eddie's lips closed over hers.


End file.
